


Araignées Graciesues

by Spirit_Wolf



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: All the avengers live in the tower, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Ballet, Fluffy, Gen, Natasha teaches him, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Peter learns ballet, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 17:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17902583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spirit_Wolf/pseuds/Spirit_Wolf
Summary: Peter learns a bit of ballet from Natasha





	Araignées Graciesues

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind this, I don't know anything about ballet. I just wanted to write something soft.

It's deathly quiet in the tower; Peter's alone in Tony's lab waiting for the billionaire to finish up with whatever business he had to do. Something concerning the PR team? The teen didn't ask. The only noise he can distract himself with is the clicking of Dum-E's wheels on the tile floor, and that kind of gets annoying after 20 minutes.

After a while, he makes his way up to the kitchen area; it's quiet in there too which doesn't make sense because he knows the Avengers are in the tower. He decides to go with cereal as his snack of choice and sits at the bar, the crunching of fruit loops is loud in his ears.

He doesn't notice until the only thing left at the bottom of the bowl is slightly discolored milk, which he downs in a heartbeat, but at some point between his bites and loud chewing, music had started. It's soft, instrumental, and mesmerizing; something you fall asleep to, not like what Tony plays in the lab. He's curious because he's Peter Parker and stands up, glancing towards the elevator doors then looking up.

"Where's that coming from Jarvis?" The AI makes a few calculating noises before answering politely.

"Agent Romanoff's floor, Mr. Parker. Would you like me to ask her if you can come up?" Peter glances at the elevator in confliction again, and hesitates, Jarvis seems to recognize this and reassures him, "She won't mind me asking, she tends to be straightforward with answers."

"Uh, sure, yeah, okay." While Jarvis asks the spy, Peter cleans his bowl and dries it before putting it back into the cabinet. By the time he's distractedly wiped down his seating area with a wet dishtowel for any splashes of milk, Jarvis comes back to report Natasha's answer.

"She would like me to inform you that she is only practicing her skills and if you would like to come up to watch, you can." Peter nods and wrings the towel nervously in his hand before folding it the way May taught him and sitting it next to the sink.

"What skill? Like fighting? Is she sparring with Clint or Steve, 'cause I don't want to interrupt that if she is." Jarvis seems amused by the teen's rambling when he answers.

"No, Mr. Parker. She is not sparring with Mr. Rogers or Agent Barton; she is only dancing." Peter tilts his head in confusion and lets his fidgety hands fall to his sides with this new found discovery. The Black Widow dances?

"What type of dancing? I thought she was all, y'know-" he makes a weak gesture with his arm, "guns and spying?"

"Agent Romanoff has a wide variety of skills which include being considered an expert martial artist, marksman, and weapons specialist. She is recognized as a world-class gymnast, athlete, acrobat, and aerialist. So, yes, her skills include having the ability to dance." Peter's eyes widened at the list, and he blushes a soft pink.

"Oh."

"'Oh' indeed, Mr. Parker." The AI teases and the elevator doors open, no one comes out, so he suspects that Jarvis went ahead and made the decision for him to go to Natasha's floor.

The relaxing melody of the classical music eases Peter's nerves on his trip up to Natasha's floor; he closes his eyes and sways with it peacefully before the jolt of the elevator yanks him out of his trance. The doors slide open, and the music is echoing down the hallway, it has few doors that all look the same except for 2, one of which he knows for a fact is her personal gym. He can find the door to her dance studio (he doesn't know if he should call it that) because the music is bleeding out from behind the door.

He knocks first and waits; the music doesn't stop or quiet down, so he knocks again, more forcefully. Nothing happens. Finally, he pushes the cold iron handle, and the door falls open to reveal not what he was expecting.

He was expecting padded walls and sleek tile (a training room. He was expecting a training room.) not an entire wall of crystal clear mirrors, a state of the art speaker system, beautifully polished wood floors, and a very professional looking balance bar. Least of all, he didn't expect to see Natasha Romanoff, _The Black Widow_ , dancing in a black tank top and a white tutu, spinning across the floor to the music like she was made for this and only this.

Peter is entranced, he can't take his eyes off her, he doesn't _want_ to, it's like a masterpiece come to life watching her dance, she knows what she's doing, and her limbs bend like liquid silver. He doesn't move, he stands breathless and in a trance until the song fades out, and she stops, making a motion for Jarvis to pause the music.

She stands still and stares at herself in the mirror, hands positioned perfectly on her waist like she's waiting for something, probably him to talk, there's not a hair out of place on her head, and despite Peter watching her execute moves that looked energy consuming, she's not breathing heavily. It's quiet again, and she turns towards him, "You're going to catch flies with your mouth hanging open like that." He clamps his mouth shut so hard that his teeth clack painfully and his ears go scarlet.

She smirks her Shield spy smirk, and he rubs his arm self-consciously, "Ms. Romanoff, that was, uh, that was beautiful. Wow, that was amazing." He mutters the second part mostly to himself, but she still manages to catch it.

"Thank you, Peter. I haven't danced for a few years, now." His mouth drops open again in shock at that news; she dances as though she practices daily.

"How long, uh, how long had you been dancing before a few years ago?" He asks nervously and Natasha sighs and picks up a water bottle from where it's balancing on top of the nailed to the opposing wall.

"My whole life, kid." Peter nods dumbly and doesn't correct the 'kid' part like he would with May or Tony. That would explain the smoother-than-a-smoothie movements and confidence that she radiates when she's dancing.

"Wow, just- wow. Do you think you could teach me a few moves?" He blurts the question out, then snaps his mouth shut once more and his eyes go comically wide. He knows how to dance, kind of, just because of that one weekend at Ned's where they got bored and watched every dance tutorial on YouTube.

Natasha is twisting the cap off and on the plastic bottle with an eyebrow raised, studying him carefully. He straightens, doing ballet means having good posture right? He can keep his spine straight for an hour or so.

"Sure, kid. I can teach you some basics." She finally states after giving him a critical assessment and setting her water back down. "Jarvis, music back on, low volume." She room is once again flooded with the soft melody as Peter walks in and Natasha walks over to the cubby's that he hadn't seen next to the door. She comes back with black sweatpants, a white tank top, and white ballet shoes. "Get dressed outside, and I'll decide what I want to teach you."

Peter nods quickly and takes the clothes like they were a newborn baby, grasping the fact with wide eyes that Natasha is going to teach him ballet. He stands as close to the wall as possible and changes into the tank top and sweat pants, the shoes are a little more challenging to figure out, but he gets it eventually and taps around in them to get used to the feeling. The tank top, as well as the pants, are just a size too large, but they're comfortable, and he's not going to complain.

He walks back in, and Natasha is doing stretches on the bar, just passing the time it seems. She straightens when she sees Peter and assess the clothes, "Do they fit?" She asks, and he nods.

"They're a little big, but they fit." She nods as well and makes a gesture to the bar.

"Okay, well we'll start over here." He scampers over, smiling giddily and places his hands on the bar, copying her position, "Are you flexible?" He shrugs.

"Yeah, I mean- I guess so."

"Okay, take your hands and cross them over the bar, then lean to the side, this will stretch your sides and arms, then lift your leg and rest it on the bar, like you're laying down." She stands behind him and adjusts his arms and straightens his leg, then counts to ten for him before telling him to switch sides. His thigh muscles already have a nice sting when he sets his foot back on the wood.

She makes him touch his knees, toes, then the floor before standing and stretching upwards as far as he can. She helps him lift his foot to mid back and then to his shoulder blade and back down again. He only stumbles once. There are a few more arm stretches and just helping him relax until they're standing in front of the mirror, and she's asking him to copy her.

"This is first position." She turns her feet outwards and presses her ankles together as she lifts her arms above her head. Peter fumbles through the copying part, and she has to break position to moves his feet correctly while he raises his arms. She nods when he's finally holding it correctly and makes him stand there for ten seconds before moving on to second position.

This one's simpler, and he can copy it a bit better, she still straightens him up a little bit before making him hold it then moving on. This continues with all five before he relaxes and tilts his head, "What are those for?" She chuckles and turns his shoulders to face the mirrors.

"They're just the standard positioning of your feet on the floor; they're supposed to help develop muscle memory when your performing." He nods and lets her straighten his back further and correct his stance, even though they're just standing still.

"Jarvis, music a little louder, please." She requests, and it automatically echoes louder throughout the room. Natasha walks him through step by step of simple moves and even coaches him through a sloppy pirouette.

After stumbling a couple of times and having his muscles protest loudly to the stances he's making them perform, his chest is visibly moving, and he'll never understand how Natasha can do all the spins, twirls, and jumps without getting winded. He's grinning though, and the agent had even cracked a few smiles when he laughed at his own clumsiness.

After he's taken a sip of his own water and feels energized despite the calming style of dance, he and Natasha lean against the bar and listen to the instrumental music coming from the speaker.

"Where did you learn how to dance?" He asks, and Natasha immediately looks down at the wood floors of her dance studio.

"A place you wouldn't be able to imagine." She replies cryptically, and he lets her decide if she wants to elaborate, "It was called the red room, it wasn't pleasant, to say the least. It was in Russia, my home country." He leans his head forward to watch her facial expressions even though he knows she won't let any pass slow enough for him to catch.

"It's where I learned all I know today, I could thank it for getting me a spot on this team, in Shield even, but it- they don't deserve any type of thank you." Peter hesitates, even resists for a second, but gently lays a hand on her shoulder which she glances at quickly, making him flinch back.

"Can I try the pirouette again?" She smiles, and they both set their water bottles down.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed 
> 
> Official Instagram and Tumblr: spiritxwolf
> 
> Criticism and opinions are always welcome.
> 
> Spirit_Wolf


End file.
